Spookshow, Baby
by QueenieMeanie
Summary: Meet Cherry. -Charlie!- Whatever. She’s just acquired a black ‘67 Chevy Impala. Problem? It’s being haunted by its former owner, and he’s not too happy about the situation. Then again, neither is she.
1. Happy Birthday!

**Story Title: **Spookshow, Baby

**Summary: **Meet Cherry. (Charlie!) Whatever. She's just acquired a black '67 Chevy Impala. Problem? It's being haunted by its former owner. And he's not too happy about the situation. Then again, neither is she.

**Warnings: **Mild language. Some spoilers. Mainly from season one. Maybe a little foreshadowing of season two and three.

**Genres: **Humor/Drama/Angst/Romance/Supernatural

**Disclaimer: **I wished on a star last night, woke up this morning and Sam and Dean Winchester still didn't belong to me. Oh, well.

**Author's note: **Okay, so here's the deal: this is my first Supernatural fic. I'm a little nervous about putting this out as I've never really done humor, but not to worry there will be plenty of angst and supernatural dealings. Enough said, please review. Feedback is always good and I'd like to know what you think.

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**Chapter One: **  
Happy Birthday!

"_Cherry_?" Charlie, I corrected. "_Hey, kiddo. It's Mal_." There was a small pause, followed by a long sigh. "_I know you're probably mad at me- please don't be_," his tone of voice had changed since his initial greeting. "_I've got a good reason. I swear. Meet me at home, okay? I'll explain everything there. And if you still want to throttle me senseless, you can. Well, not to badly. Love ya and see ya soon, bye_!"

By the time the message was over, I was already halfway out the door. I might have been a bit upset with my older brother, but I wasn't going to skip out on seeing him.

Hearing his voice, even though it was just on the answering machine, was both a huge relief and a surprise. When I arrived home from work and saw the red light blinking, I expected it to be a damn telemarketer or something, but then I heard his voice, telling me to meet him at our parents home. I didn't know what to expect from his return. I never did.

Malcolm had disappeared a couple of weeks prior to his message and hadn't been heard from since. Actually, disappeared was to strong of a word. He left, took off. Same thing, I know, but less harsh and it doesn't raise too many alarms. Sure, he'd left a note saying that he'd be back as soon as possible and that we shouldn't worry, but moms worry and ours was at her wits end. She was going out of her mind, worrying about him.

Why did he leave? Where did he go? Did he have any clean underwear? Mom stuff, you understand.

Dad and I just couldn't say or do anything to calm her down.

Mal was known for taking off at random times, we were use to it. It was something he did, but mom still had trouble letting go. Dad and I had been worried too, don't get me wrong, but we knew that he was a big boy-he could take care of himself. Sort of. And his leaving usually didn't bother me, but it kind of irked me this time.

He left about two or three weeks before my birthday. My twenty-first birthday. I wanted to know why, but of course, he never leaves a contact number and he doesn't have a cell phone. Cancer, he says. Whatever.

So, of course, being the person that I am- curious as a cat- I didn't hesitate to meet up with him and about forty-five minutes later I found myself sitting on mom's couch, waiting for him as patiently as I could.

Mal arrived ten minutes after I did with a huge smile on his face, like he was proud of something.

I quirked an eyebrow. "What are you grinning about?" I asked suspiciously as I stood up from my seat to hug him. He was a lot taller than me. 6"2 to my 5"2 and when people looked at my mother and father, who are at a decent height, and ask why I was so short, I'd point at my brother and they seemed to get the message.

"It's good to see you too, Cherry," he said, bending at his knees a little to hug me properly.

"It's Charlie. Or Charlotte. No Cherry," I reminded him. I couldn't count how many times a day I had use to do that. It was cute for a while, then it just got annoying when I turned fifteen and he just didn't seem to understand that I wasn't his baby Cherry anymore. Sometimes I didn't have the heart to remind him, but I was still a little upset with him leaving and not telling me why.

"I know, I know," he replied, holding his hands up in mock surrender. He was still smiling and something about the way his brown eyes twinkled didn't sit right with me. He was hiding something. Something big, maybe… but then again I had always been a little paranoid when it came to him. And with good reason, too. This was the guy who put his pet rat in my bed just because he thought that my reaction would be funny to watch.

"So," I began. "You needed to see me? I was promised an explanation and some major throttling if I wasn't satisfied."

He shook his head. "Come on," he said, walking behind me to cover my eyes with his large hands.

"W-what are you doing?"

"I've got a surprise for you."

He led me outside, slowly, and wouldn't so much as give me a hint to what it could be. I didn't know whether to be excited or worried, but judging by his voice- the surprise was good and I couldn't help but feel a little giddy and when he removed his hands, I knew that I was right.

"Okay, when I move my hands, keep your eyes closed until I tell you. Got it?" I nodded and he removed his hands away from my eyes. "Okay… now!"

Okay, so what I thought might be waiting for me was not half as cool as what actually was. Sitting on our parents drive way, in all its glory was a black Chevy. My early annoyance and paranoia was quickly replaced by shock and confusion. My jaw dropped, I think it might have hit the ground, but my hand quickly caught it. I turned to my brother, who was standing a little to my right with a bright smile on his dimpled face.

Stupidly, I asked him, "Is this for me?" I needed to be sure. I didn't want to get all excited for nothing and then have him tell me: "No are you crazy? This baby is mine!" Because then I probably would have killed him for getting me worked up for nothing.

He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck, looking almost embarrassed. "Happy Birthday, kiddo. Sorry it's a bit late. I was working on it and--oomph!" I cut him off by tackling him with a hug.

"Sorry?!" I shouted, horrified. "Don't be sorry. You are the best big brother a girl could have!" I finished, jumping on him and squeezing him as hard as I could in a bear hug to get my point across, although now that I think about it, I don't think that constricting ones air supply could be considered as a way of saying 'I love you and thanks.'

"I'm your only brother," he reminded me with a wheeze as he tried to wiggle out of my grasp. "Cherry, I can't breathe, kiddo. I love you too, but you gotta let me breathe!"

"Oh!" I said, jumping away, still beaming about my late birthday gift, completely ignoring the fact that he had called me by that ridiculous nickname he had given me when we were little. "Sorry."

"It's okay," he replied, rubbing his arm a little. "So, I take it you like it?"

"Like it?" I asked, bright eyes scanning the car in all its glory. "I love it! Where'd you get it? It must have been so expensive!" I know it's rude to ask about the price of things, but I knew my brother didn't have a lot of money. He was just as broke as I was.

He just shook his head, "I got a good price, found it in a junkyard." He must have noticed the confused look on my face because he began to explain. "I left because I got called for a job, came across a junkyard and saw the Chevy and knew it must have been a classic. I talked to the owner, practically gave it to me, said he didn't want it. So, I bought car parts, worked for most of them and lo' and behold, your new baby." He gave another smile and walked towards the car, running his hand lightly over the hood, almost lovingly. "Happy Birthday," he said, turning to me.

I shook my head and walked over to him. "You really didn't have to give me anything, you know." I hadn't been aware that he had left for a job or that he had taken so long to get back because he was fixing up a car for me.

He nodded, "I know, but it's nice to give you something every now and then. Twenty-one is suppose to be big deal and I know that your eighteenth birthday wasn't all that, or your fifteen. I wanted this to be special. Plus I now you hate getting around in cabs and buses."

I officially loved my big brother to death. Malcolm was only four years older than me, making him twenty-five. Growing up, we didn't always see eye to eye with each other. The whole brother and sister bonding thing just wasn't for us. I was out doing my own things and, well, he was too. It wasn't until recently that we started forming a bond. I had always wanted a big brother to rely on, to joke with and I was getting that now.

"Oh my god," I choked, covering my face with both hands. "You're gonna make me cry."

"Oh no," he rushed over to me and grabbed me by my shoulders, shaking me enough to get my attention. "You will not cry on me! I'll take the car back, I swear!"

"But your so cheesy!" I joked, trying to lighten up the mood. Malcolm wasn't very good with crying women. I often wondered what he would do if he ever got married and needed to comfort his wife or daughter. Probably send them to me.

He laughed as well, shaking his head as he reached into his pocket for something. I wiped my eyes just in time to see a key hanging from his index finger. "Wanna go for a ride?"

I smiled widely as he tossed the key towards me and I made way towards the drivers side. I had my license, but always thought it was a waste because I never could get around to buying a car. Good think I let dad pressure me into it.

I opened the door carefully and hopped in, taking in everything. The upholstery. The steering wheel. Everything! Mal had done such a good job. My brother did the same. As I put on my seatbelt, Mal reached over and turned the radio on, switching it to this station that played his favorite music.

Before I could stop myself, I reached over and switched it to another station. "Uh-uh. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake-hole," and then I froze and looked at my brother. He was giving me this really weird look, quirked eyebrow and all. "On second thought, you choose. It's fine," I said, with a nervous giggle.

"Yeah, that's what I thought you meant," he said, turning the station back and then looking at me once more. "Freak."

"Loser," I shot back, pulling out of the driveway and testing just how fast my new baby could go.


	2. Glitch in the System

**Author's Note: **Oh wow, sorry for taking so long updating this one. I had a hard time with it. Thank you to those who reviewed, added this story to their favorites and alerts! It means a lot to me that you guys like it, even though I think I'm not remotely funny lol. Thanks again and I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Btw, songs used in this chapter don't belong to me. Alfie is by Lily Allen and Who Are You by Black Sabbath

**Edit: 5/12/08**: I went back and edited the ending to this chapter. I didn't like how it was written so I went back and cleaned some things up. Enjoy!

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**Chapter Two:  
**Glitch in the System

Question: If you were to walk out of your room one morning, to pick up a friend on the way to work, and found your older brother sprawled out in his Looney Tunes boxers on your sofa bed sleeping, drooling and all that jazz, what would you do? What. Would. You. Do?

Answer: You take as many pictures as you can, of course, and use them for blackmail!

Trust me. You'll need them later.

Especially if you have an older brother like mine. I love Malcolm. I really do. Seriously. No joke. But when he gets into his prankster mode, I can't stand being around him. Growing up, I physically had to retrain myself from beating him over the head with my shoe whenever he got into his prankster fest. People would always tell me things like: 'oh, it can't be that bad' or 'oh, honey, you're just overreacting.'

Overreacting? Yeah, right. Overreacting is for soap operas and drama queens. Once when I was sixteen, he put baby powder in my blow dryer so that when I turned it on I got a face full of the damn stuff. I was already late for school and got detention for it! Oh, and don't even get me started on his late night pranks. I still can't sleep in the dark. I remember when I was younger, I woke up to someone shaking me and the first thing I see when I open my eyes and let them adjust to the light is a demonic and insane looking clown face staring down at me. I think I just about pissed myself and lost my voice screaming bloody murder.

Yeah, mom and dad grounded him for a week, but that didn't help. It just fueled the fire. Needless to say I am now afraid of the dark, clowns and sometimes vacuums.

So, that's why I needed the pictures. Leverage. Free pass for me. No embarrassment for him. Never know when I'm going to need them. And when Mal got into his pranks, he use to go all out. Granted he's grown up a bit, but that's not gonna stop him. Besides, what normal person would pass up the chance to blackmail their older sibling?

Shaking my head, I giggled a little and pocketed my phone. I debated on whether I should wake him or not. He looked so worn out. I decided to let him sleep, it wasn't like he was going to do anything important today. Glancing at my wrist watch, I cursed as I realized I was running a little late for work and needed to get going if I was going to pick up my friend Eddie on the way.

I grabbed a post-it note and wrote a quick note, saying that I'd gone to work and we should get dinner or something later. I also reminded him to call our folks, they didn't know he was back yet, and I also asked that he not burn down my apartment. When I finished, I stuck it to his forehead, grabbed my car keys, purse and left.

When I got outside, I looked back at my apartment building, an old habit I had acquired over the years, and began to walk down the street to where my car was parked. It was a 1967 Chevy Impala, my brother had told me, completely trashed when he found it. I could hardly believe it. It looked so new. Malcolm had done a great job repairing it, some of his best work. It shouldn't have surprised me though, he was always good with cars. He had work at the local garage near our parents house when I was younger. He loved cars, could name them all, something I couldn't do. I suppose that was why I loved my car so much. He had put a lot of effort into it. It had a lot of sentimental value, but if I told him that I'd probably be called a pansy.

No chick flick moments, he'd say. I'd tell him to shove it. Whatever.

Jiggling the keys in my hand, I walked towards the driver side of the car and hopped in, tossing my bag into the backseat. When I was down buckling in, I reached over and turned the radio on.

_"…now how the hell do you ever expect that you'll get laid, when all you do is stay and play on your computer games_?"

Not my favorite song in the world, but it'd do. It had an upbeat feeling to it, something to keep me awake until I got to Eddie's and he'd give me my coffee.

"_Ooooooh I only say it cos I care, so please can you stop pulling my hair? Now, now there's no need to swear, please don't despair my de_--

_"--from the very start now I've found you out. I don't think you're so smart. I only have one more quest--"_

I blinked, slightly startled by the sudden change of song. Without another thought, I reached over and changed the station back. Must have been mixed signals or something, I decided

_"--trying to help you out so can you stop being a twat. It's time that you and I sat down and had a little chat, and look me in the eyes take off that stu--_

_"--In the name of hell- who are you? Who are you?… 'And that was Black Sabbath's Who are you? Thanks for the request, Jill. Next up- an oldie, but a goodie that I'm sure you'll all enjoy here on--'"_

"What the hell?" I mumbled to myself as I leaned forward, keeping an eye on the road, and turned the radio off. The thing kept changing stations. I'd have to tell Malcolm. Maybe it was a loose wire or something that needed to be fixed. Maybe it would have to be replaced. I hated to sit in silence, but it didn't really matter, I had already reached Eddie's place. I pulled up in front of his building and got out to wait. He didn't take very long.

He came out, smiles and all as he walked towards me with two cups of coffee in his hands. "Morning, bed-head, you're late," he chided, jokingly and whistled suddenly. "Hot mama!"

"Oh, thank you," I returned the smile, standing up straight to smooth out my scrubs. I did feel unusually sexy today.

Eddie's brown eyes found mine and he shook his head, "I meant the car honey, not you."

I blinked, grabbed the cup in his hand and turned my back on him as I got into the car. "Boy you sure know how to lower my self esteem, dontcha?" I sniffed.

"I do my best," he smiled showing off those pearly whites of his. "And don't be such a drama queen, you look good too, but this car," he said, eyes scanning the inside as he buckled himself in, "is dead sexy."

I shook my head. Eddie and I had been friends since forever. Okay, actually, that's not true. We met in nursing school about four years ago and had been joined at the hip since. I'd had a teeny weenie crush on him. I mean, who wouldn't have a crush on him? He was tall, dark and handsome. And he had a smile that could drive anyone crazy. I thought I might have been in love, we had so much in common. Then I met his boyfriend and I knew we had more in common than I thought. Yeah, right through the heart. Eddie would always be my boy friend, but he would never be my boyfriend.

"So, have you named it yet?" He asked, leaning over to turn on the radio. I thought I'd worn him about the radio acting funny, but after a couple of seconds passed and the station didn't change, I decided not to. Maybe it had just been a fluke.

"Named it?"

"Yeah," he nodded, enthusiastically. "Don't all you crazy car people name your cars?" He asked, taking a sip of his coffee. I barely had a taste of mine. But he did have a point and I seriously hadn't thought about it. I wasn't much of a car person. I hadn't received my license until I was nineteen and I rode my bike and used public transportation and car pooled for the most part. Malcolm was more of a crazy car person, I'd let him name her if I couldn't think of anything. "You should give it a fierce name, something scary to match the outer exterior."

I turned my head sharply in his direction. "My car is _not_ scary!" I defended, taking a moment to drink some of my coffee. Ah, that hit the spot.

"Not scary?" He laughed. "Okay, it's not _that_ scary but it sure as hell _is_ intimidating. Makes you wonder who owned this bad girl before you, huh?" Eddie asked, running his hand along the dashboard.

Huh. "You know, I never really thought about that." It was true, the thought never crossed my mind. As soon as I'd seen the Impala in the driveway and my brother put the car keys in my hand, it belonged to me.

"You never wondered about the guy who owned this baby before you?" Eddie asked, almost sounding appalled.

"No-wait," I backtracked. "What makes you so sure it was a guy?"

"Do you honestly think a girl owned this car before you?"

"Right," I agreed, taking another sip of my coffee. "You could be right."

"Anyway, your brother did a really good job," he complimented.

I nodded, smiling like a proud parent. "I know, but I'll be sure to tell him you said so as well."

About ten minutes later- I really do love this car!- we arrived at the hospital and punched in as we normally did.

"Morning, Gladys!" I greeted, giving her a sleepy smile as I walked passed her, Eddie trailing along behind me. She muttered something I couldn't hear. Gladys wasn't much of a morning person. Poor, dear. Not that I blamed her, I'd be a walking zombie too if I had to be here at five in the morning. "All right, Ed, I'll see you at lunch," I told him as I made a beeline for the elevators.

He smiled, looking over his shoulder and raised his cup in the air. "See ya, babe." he said, walking towards the ER.

I was working upstairs today with the elderly people. It wasn't a task that most people looked forward too, but I didn't mind, they were all so sweet….

"My God, Charlotte, you've gotten fat," Mrs. Rios said as I walked past her on my way out of the elevator. She was a tiny old woman with a broken leg, who came in every other day complaining about how itchy her cast was and demanded someone do something about it.

Without even realizing it, I had placed one of my hands on my belly. I wasn't fat… well, not really. "Morning, Mrs. Rios," I greeted with a fake smile. You learn to ignore what people tell you on this floor.

I headed straight for my locker and put my stuff away. When I was done, I walked towards the lunch trolley, or rather the breakfast trolley and began to pass out everyone's food.

"Mornin', sweet cheeks!" Mr. Patterson greeted, swatting my ass as I brought him his tray of food. It took a lot of energy not to give him a hard smack. I just had to keep reminding myself that he was just an old man and he didn't know any better. Yeah, right. Pervert.

Pressing my lips together in a thin line, I gave him a look that clearly said I wasn't happy. "Mr. Patterson, I've told you countless times to not do that. It's rude."

"Oh, you like it," he said, giving me a wink and a wrinkled smile.

I vomited in my mouth just a little bit.

The rest of the morning when on like that. Though I did save myself from being insulted and harassed, which I was very glad for. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't usual, but sometimes old people get cranky and like to take it out on the person closes to them. Usually that was me, but most people were like that anyway.

"Good morning, Rosie!" I chirped, almost skipping into her room. This was my last room for breakfast and then I was off doing other things.

Rosie looked away from the window she had been staring at, something she always did, and turned to me with a smile. "Good morning, Charlotte," she said, holding out a hand to me. Without even hesitating, I placed mine in hers and waited for to give it a tight squeeze. It was her version of a hug. She was an adorable old lady with short, curly white hair, brown eyes and wrinkled face. She sort of reminded me of the old woman on that show on cartoon network, the one with the imaginary friend. I saw a couple of episodes the other night with Malcolm, that boy loved his cartoons. I was especially growing fond on the three Ed boys, they were hysterical. "How was your weekend?" she asked, sitting up.

"It was good, nothing exciting," I told her, placing the tray of food on the stand in front of her. "My brother finally came home, though. He brought me a present."

"Oh, is that so?" She asked, eyes twinkling. I hadn't known Rosie for long, but she knew about Mal. I had come to work a little upset and she asked what was wrong, so I told her.

"Yeah," I nodded, smiling. "He bought me a car, or rather fixed one up for me."

"How wonderful," she said, clasping her hands together and smiling.

I giggled a little and something colorful in the corner of my eye caught my attention. It was vase full of daisies and sunflowers. "And who are these from?" I teased, gesturing towards the flowers. "A secret admirer?

"At my age?" She snorted, shaking her head. "No, they're from Luke."

Ah, Luke, I thought to myself with a wistful sigh. He was quite the charmer. Very business-y. You know the type, those work first, second and third then play later. He was nice though. Very sweet, especially to Rosie, his Grandmother. Brought her flowers, get well cards and small presents. Can't say the same for her son, Robert. He was a real hard-ass. I didn't like to be around when he was visiting.

"That was very nice of him," I told her, bending down a little to smell the lovely flowers and sneezed. Damnit.

"Yes, it was," she agreed. "You know, he asked about you."

"Really?" I asked, standing up straight. "Oh." I rubbed the back of my neck, embarrassed because I knew I was blushing.

"Yes," she said, playing with her food. "Asked if he was ever going to see. I told him he would just have to visit more often."

I giggled a little, "You're not trying to set me up with your Grandson, are you Rosie?"

"Of course not," she said, sounding insulted as she looked away from her food. "I would never," and she winked.

Yeah, I liked Rosie, she was a sweetheart.

I left her soon after and went on with work, which wasn't much, I felt. It was the same routine I had everyday, really. I changed some sheets, gave a few patients their daily sponge baths - it was Mr. Patterson's turn today -, checked out some patients and spoke to them.

Around six, I was given the okay to leave. The girl who was taking over my shift had just punched in and I was glad for it. My feet were killing me. On my way out, I passed by downstairs and said goodbye to Eddie who still had a couple of hours to go, seeing as how he was working in the ER today.

As I reached the parking lot, a cold shiver ran down my spine and I had an eerie feeling that someone was watching me. I sped up a little faster. The parking garage was always near empty at this time and it was always creepy. When I heard footsteps behind me, I looked over my shoulder to find no one. I shook my head and headed towards my car, chiding myself for getting so easily spooked. I was a big girl, damnit!

When I reached my car, I hopped in and threw my bag in the back seat like I always did. I started the car, without even thinking, my body was on automatic, and it started going crazy.

"Holy, sh--!" The sound of my alarm, and every other car in the lot, going off, drowned out the rest of my sentence. I jumped up, looking out the windows of my car to see if maybe someone was out there, playing a prank on me. I didn't see anyone. Next the radio turned on, and all I could hear was static as it went from one station to the next. I covered my ears, to shocked to scream or get out. What the hell was going on?!

Then my phone rang and everything stopped. I sat in shock for a while, ignoring my phone. Huh, I thought, confused as hell. With shaky hands, I grabbed my phone from my coat pocket and saw that it was Mal calling. "Hello?" I answered, out of breath.

"_Been running, Cherry_?" He asked and I couldn't help but notice the amusement in his voice.

I rolled eyes, sitting right and placing my free hand on the steering wheel. "No, I just …um …never mind," I said, shaking my head and closing my eyes. I almost laughed at how stupid I was being. Like I had said before, it could have been crossed wire or something. This car had just been repaired, it still had its flukes, but that didn't explain the other cars. "I'm on my way home," I told him, running a hand through my hair. "Do you wanna get something to eat?"

"_Yeah, I read the note you stuck to my forehead this morning. Nice, by the way_."

I snickered a little, "I do what I can. So what do you wanna eat?"

He sighed, "_I was thinking we could go to the deli on Porter street_."

Ew, I though, shuddering already. The steak and cheese from the deli on Porter street always made me sick. I shook my head, reaching up to fix the rearview mirror. "Mal, you know I-- ahhh!" I yelped in surprise. A pair of hazel eyes were staring at me through my rearview mirror. I swiveled around in me seat, to face the source, but found no one. The backseat was completely empty. Eyes wide and phone still pressed against my ear, I sat up and looked over the driver's seat to make sure whoever it was I thought I saw hadn't ducked down to hide. Empty.

"_Cherry_?" My brother's voice startled me out of my state. "_Charlie, are you okay_?"

"Y-yeah," I said, completely ignoring the fact that he had called me Cherry, even though I told him not to anymore. "Malcolm, I'm gonna have to call you back."

"_What? Wait, Cherry, what--?_" I didn't even let him finish, I hung up and dropped the phone in the passenger seat and sat there for a while. What the hell had just happened? I wondered. Had I imagined those eyes staring back at me? I did have a long day. Maybe that was it. Yeah, I had just imagined it.

Nodding, I hesitantly turned on the car again. Thankfully nothing happened and I was able to drive home without a glitch.


	3. Gotta Love Technology

**Author's note: **Hey, all. I went back to chapter 2 and edited the ending of that one because I didn't really like the way it came out at first, but now I'm satisfied. I want to thank everyone who reviewed. I really do appreciate it. I hope that you all enjoy this chapter, things should start picking up soon.

**Disclaimer: **The song In My Time of Dying does not belong to me, but to Led Zeppelin.

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**Chapter Three:**

Gotta Love Technology

"…_clean up on isle seven. I repeat - clean up on isle seven._"

_Oops. My bad_, I though, innocently whistling to myself as I quickly walked away from the scene of the crime. I tried to appear as normal as possible, as if I hadn't just dropped a jar of pickles on the floor and made a complete fool of myself, but, yeah, who was I kidding? I was already getting weird looks from people as I retreated to my shopping cart and I could feel the heat in my cheeks rising from embarrassment. I really should have left the pickles alone, but my stubborn ass just had to have them, without anyone's help and I lost my grip on the slippery thing.

It had been on the highest shelve. Who the hell puts pickles on the top shelves anyways? Don't they know that short people like pickles too?! Apparently not. Whatever.

This was why I hated shopping. Hated it. Hated it! It just wasn't for me. I always managed to make a fool out of myself. I could do that on my own without shopping, thank you very much. I usually didn't do the grocery shopping on my own, nobody really trusted me alone and with good reason too.

Sometimes mom would come with me, never dad though. She thought that the two of us went out together, to do the shopping, all we'd come back with would be junk food, junk food and more junk food. Didn't blame her for thinking that. It actually happened when I was twelve when mom went to visit my Grams. Haven't been able to look at pan pizza the same way again. But mom and dad were still away visiting my aunt. They were suppose to be back next week, but I couldn't wait for their return. I'd starve!

Eddie liked to tag along every once and a while, mostly to poke fun at me and to flirt with the cute cashier, but he was at work at the moment, being responsible and grown up. And, now that I think about it, Malcolm usually did the shopping when he was home, but he was a job interview today. Got up really early, made breakfast and coffee. Weird.

Damn, it seemed like everyone was busier than I was today. Outside of work (I had the day off), my family and Eddie, I didn't really have much of my life, I realized. Now, how sad was that?

_Whatever_, I though with a pout, lazily glancing down into my shopping cart and winched a little at the site of what I had gotten. Yeah, I really shouldn't have been all that surprised to find that all I had gotten so far was junk food, but you can't really blame a girl. Old habits die hard, I suppose. I loved junk food to death, which was why I shouldn't be allowed to do the grocery shopping, at least not alone.

Shaking my head, I began to push my cart along towards the produce section, I really needed to buy something healthy to balance out all this junk. If I came home without any fruit Malcolm would be get mad. That was one this I learned from him - when in doubt, bring fruit home… or something like that. Oh, and also, always look under the bed before you go to sleep. You never know who's hiding underneath it. Yeah, another one of his stupid, immature pranks. Ass.

_And speak of the Devil_, I thought with a grin when I noticed my cell phone was ringing from inside my purse. I swear sometimes Mal scared me, it was like he was fricking psychic or something. Or maybe there was a strong sibling bond between us now. Pfft. Yeah, right.

Pressing the cell phone to my ear, I asked him. "Quick. What number am I thinking of?"

"_Uh…seven_?" Was his unsure answer.

"Seven? Really?" I asked and made that annoying buzzard sound that he hated so much, earning a few strange glances that I tried to ignore. Well, there went my psychic theory. How cool would it have been to be related to a psychic? "Wrong! Mal, you suck major donkey balls."

"_Oh, yeah real mature, Cherry. Shut up_!" He groaned, audibly. Sometimes I loved being a little sister. Annoying Mal makes everything worth while. "_What normal person answers the phone asking to tell them what number they're thinking of? Freak_."

"Loser!"

"_Great comeback_," he snorted. "_Where you at, short-stuff_?"

If there was anything I hated more than being called Cherry it was short-stuff. Rolling my eyes, I grabbed two bags of grapes and said, "I'm at the grocery store."

"_You're buying food_?" He asked in disbelief, or was it amusement? Could have been both. Jerk.

"Yeah, what of it?" I asked, defensively. It was only then that I realized that I had been ranting on in my head about how I shouldn't be allowed to do the shopping alone. "We're low on food because someone's fat ass is half way through eating everything in the fridge," I told him, jokingly. Kind of. Not really. "Didn't you get my note?"

"_What note_?" He asked sounding genuinely surprised.

"The post-it note?"

"_Uh… no_."

"Damnit," I cursed, shaking my head. "I knew I should have put it on your forehead again."

"_Ha ha_." He laughed sarcastically, though it sounded more like a car engine trying to start.

"What, you would have found it quicker," I told him and he knew I was right.

"_Whatever, Cherry_." Charlie, I thought, but didn't say. "_Well since you're there, do you think you can pick me up some beer_?"

I sighed. "Sure. I'll be home soon."

"_Thanks_," he said and I could distinctively hear him opening and closing drawers at home. "_But I probably won't be here when you get back. I'm going out with the guys_," he clarified. "_Wont be back 'til late_."

I sighed again. Yeah, I was the only one without a life. "Okay, but don't be too late," I joked.

He laughed, "_Sure, mom. I promise_." And we hung up.

It wasn't long before I was done and heading towards the parking lot. It seemed I had already picked up a case of beer and hadn't really realized it, which was weird because I didn't drink the stuff. I decided that I had probably checked the fridge before I left and noticed that Mal was running low and he might appreciate a beer when he got home from the interview. Wasn't I a loving sister?

I got home without any problem, which I was thankful for. The car had been acting up a lot lately and I didn't understand why. I had no choice but to tell Mal. He said it was probably because a loose wire, but when he checked it out, he couldn't find anything wrong with it. Weird. I was just grateful to get home in one piece.

When I got upstairs, Mal was gone, as he said he would be, and I noticed the light on the answering machine was blinking. I dragged the bags into the kitchen, near the fridge and pressed the play button and went back to putting the groceries away.

"_You have two new messages_", the familiar monotone voice said. "_First message_."

"_Hey, kids, it's mom_." No, really? I thought sarcastically. What daughter wouldn't know the sound of her own mother when she called? "_Charlie, I really think you should change your answering machine greeting. It's kind of rude. I know how much you and your brother like it, but image what people who call think. Anyway, dad and I were just calling to say hi and that we should be home in a couple of days. We expect you home for dinner, so don't make any other plans. Don't kill each other and Malcolm, please don't let you sister do the shopping alone--" _too late for that, I snorted, putting away the two bags of chips I bought in one of the cupboards above the sink. "--_We don't want a repeat of last time. We'll be home soon, love you both_!"

"Bye, mom," I said in a sing-song voice.

"_Second Message_."

"_Charlotte, it's Tony_," Ooh, the landlord. Now that perked my interest. I wondered why he called. "_Listen, I've been getting some complaints from the people below ya 'bout noise and such. Try to keep it down, okay? You're a good kid, never have any problems with you or your brother, don't need people tellin' me otherwise, ya hear_?"

"_End of messages_."

Noise? I thought, confused. What noise? I'm barely home and when I am, I'm usually asleep. Working at the hospital is exhausting, I'm always tired. Well, mostly. The people downstairs are just sensitive, I decided and walked into the living room. I stood there for a good second and wondered whether, the Jones', the couple below, were home. They were really snotty and annoying. When Mal and I first moved in, they always used to complain. With a shrug, I stomped my foot a couple of times. There, I though, satisfied. Now I'm giving you something to complain about.

I wasn't going to let them get away with complaining about something I hadn't done, and I knew Mal wouldn't be making nose either. Or would he? No, I doubted it. Whatever, I thought and went back to putting the groceries away. I was almost done.

"_Hey, sorry we missed your call_-" What? I thought and quickly walked back into the living room. That's weird, I hadn't even heard the phone ring and it was sitting on the receiver. _"--(No, we're not. We got lives too, ya know!)" _I shook my head, Mal could be so immature sometimes, but I didn't have the heart to change it. I thought it was kind of funny. I don't know what my mom was talking about._ "Just leave you name and number and we'll get back to you as soon as possible (unless you're a telemarketer - whatever you're selling, we don't want it!) Mal--! Beep."_

As soon as the greeting was over, I decided I should pick up the phone. It could be Tony, calling about the Jones' complaining again. Or it could be Mal, but just as my hand reached for the phone, there was static coming from the answering machine. I could distinctly hear a voice. It sounded… male. Didn't sound like Mal though. I couldn't make out what it - he was saying, but I could have sworn I heard the words: 'mine' and 'baby'. Then it stopped abruptly. Weird, I thought and began to walk towards the kitchen, feeling a little uneasy… and then the phone rang again. I jumped towards it and picked it up.

"Hello?"

"_Hey, lazy_!" The voice on the other end of the line said and I could practically hear the smile in his voice. I would never understand how Eddie could be so cheerful all the time.

"Hey, Ed," I greeted him and then remembered the answering machine. "Did you just call a second ago?"

"_No- well, I called your cell, but you didn't pick up. So, I figured you were at home_." He said and I walked over to the 'dinner table' (it wasn't much of a dinner table. No body ate there, it was just a place to put our stuff on top of when we got home) where my purse was and I grabbed my phone. Sure enough, I had a missed call. "_So, whatcha doing_?"

"Nothing," I told him as I plopped myself on the sofa, kicking my feet up on the coffee table. I hadn't realized how tired I was until I sat down. "I just finished putting away the groceries--"

"_Wait_," he said, cutting me off. "_You went shopping?! Why didn't you wait for me? What'd I miss_?"

I glared into space. Why did he always assume I did something embarrassing? "Nothing." I told him, lying through my teeth and he knew it.

"_Liar_," he called me on it. "_What'd you do_?"

I sighed. "I, uh, broke a jar of pickles…" I said, drifting off, rubbing the back of my neck.

Eddie made a strange sound that sounded like he was holding back his laughter and I glared into space just a little harder. "Oh, God. I knew it had to be something like that. Way to go!"

"Whatever," I pouted, eyes softening as I picked up the remote control to turn on the television. "It wasn't my fault, stupid thing was on the highest shelf possible. It was ridiculous. Who the hell does that, Ed? Who?"

This time he didn't even bother holding back his laugh, "_Tall people who have it in for short people, I'm sure_."

"Hey! I'm not short, I'm just… vertically challenged."

"Right…" he said, stretching out the word in skepticism. "_Well, I'll talk you later, Char. I just called to make sure you were okay. I know how you get on your days off_."

I smiled. I really did love Ed. He was the peanut butter to my jelly. The cheese to my baloney. The monkey to my banana. The- okay, you get my point. "I'm fine. I'll talk to you later. Bye." After he said his goodbye, we hung up and took the time to scan the living room from where I was sitting.

There wasn't much for me to do. I had done everything before I had gone shopping. Everything had been cleaned, the groceries had been put away and Mal had washed the dishes before he left.

Oh, well. I thought and walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bag of chips and a soda from the fridge, and made my way back to the sofa and laid down. I started flipping through channels, trying to find something good to watch when I landed on the Sci-fi channel. Some movie was playing, seemed interesting enough. There wasn't anything else to watch. Why not?

An hour into the movie and I could already feel my eyelids beginning to droop, and I suppose I must have fallen asleep because when I blinked, the living room was dark. I glanced up at the clock that was hanging over the TV and saw that it was a little passed nine.

Stretching my arms over my head, I sat up and turned off the TV. I glanced down at what I was wearing and realized that I was still in my day clothes. I decided to go ahead and change into my pajamas since I was sure I wasn't going anywhere tonight. I stood up from the couch and made my way towards my room, yawning and rubbing my eyes.

When I finished changing, I decided to just stay in my room and watch TV before bed. As I reached for the remote, I heard noise coming from the living room. I stood as still as I could, as if it would help me listen, and I realized that the noise was music. Music? Mal, I thought. He was home a lot earlier than I thought he would.

I walked out of my room, towards the living room to bug him some, but when I got there the lights were still off but the stereo was on.

"_In my time… of dying, want nobody to mourn. All I want… for you to do… is take my body home_."

"Mal," I called out, unsure. I walked towards the bathroom, he wasn't there. "Mal," I called out again, walking back towards the living room.

"_Well, well, well, so I can die easy…_"

Die easy? I shuddered, listening to the lyrics.

I moved towards the stereo and turned it off, uneasy. "Mal, are you home?" I called out again, feeling rather stupid. Maybe he was just playing a prank on me. Yeah, that's it, I thought. "Mal, come on, I'm not in the mood for games right now."

When are you ever, he would say. And I'd tell him to shove it.

"Mal," I repeated, this time a lot softer than the first time. I felt a chill run down my spine and I could have sworn that the air got a little bit colder, but I could just have been feeling paranoid. Whatever, I though, turning to go back into my room. It was obvious Mal wasn't home and if he was, he wasn't coming out anytime soon. Maybe the stereo had turned on its on.

Yeah, right.

As I passed the kitchen, a figure in the corner of my eye caught my attention and I immediately froze. A dozen different thoughts came to mine and I bit my lip nervously. I didn't move and whoever it was standing in my kitchen, they didn't move either. Sighing deeply, I turned my head towards their direction and gasped.

There was a man standing by the fridge. From what I could see, he was tall, but he was shorter than Malcolm. I couldn't make out his features, it was too dark. I don't know how long I stood there, or why I hadn't moved at all. Shock, I told myself. It had to be the shock of finding someone who didn't belong in my apartment.

He was the first to move and when he did, I reached for the closes thing I could reach, which turned out to be a trophy Mal won when he was in high school. I raised it high above my head to swing at him, but when I turned to face him, I found he was gone. Vanished. Disappeared. Pulled a Houdini. "Oh, no way." I muttered.

I looked left and right there was no way he could have gotten past me without me seeing or feeling him. I dropped the trophy in shock and barely registered that it had landed on my foot until I felt a sharp pain and I bolted towards the door.

I had seen way too many horror movies to be stupid and just stand there and wait for whoever it was to come back.. When I got the door open, I ran into something firm and screamed.

"Whoa, whoa," I recognized the voice. It was Mal. I pushed myself away from him, his face was etched in concern. I looked over my shoulder, into the apartment and then back at him. Without a second thought, I threw my arms around his neck. "Cherry. Cherry, what's wrong, kiddo? You look like you've just seen a ghost." I think I tightened my grip on him a little more at the word. "Cherry? Charlotte," he wrapped his arms around me when he realized I wasn't going to let go any time soon. "Why are you shaking? What's wrong?"

I didn't have the heart to tell him. He'd think I was crazy. Maybe I was. I _had _just seen a ghost.


	4. Reaching Out to The Beyond

**A/N: **I am so, so, so sorry for the delay of this chapter. I had such a terrible case of writer's block, but to make it up to you all, I made this chapter a bit more longer than I intended to. I want to thank everyone for being so patient, and those who read/reviewed the last chapter, and added it to their favorites/alerts - big thanks! Anyway, on with the story!

* * *

**Chapter Four:  
**Reaching Out to The Beyond

* * *

"… so, then, after _that_, I finally confessed to the police and told them that the bodies were in the basement, and now I'm on the run 'cause I don't think I look particularly good in orange or stripes."

I yawned, tiredly. "That's nice," I agreed, distractedly, that is, until some part of my brain that was still alive and alert replayed the last bit he'd said, and I backtracked, staring at him as if he'd just grown a second head or something. "Wait - what? What the hell did you just say?"

Eddie raised an eyebrow and shook his head slightly as he crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned back in his chair. "Well, if you had been listening, Scatterbrain, you'd know, wouldn't you?" He chided gently. "What's the matter with you?" He asked, but not unkindly. "Usually you at _least_ pretend to listen to me when I'm rambling on."

Guilt. "Hey, I _do_ listen," I protested, halfheartedly, but then he raised his eyebrow, if possible, higher and I faltered. Damnit! The eyebrow always got me. "It's nothing really," I dropped my gaze down to the hot, steaming Styrofoam cup in my hand. "Just thinking, got a little distracted. Sorry."

He cleared his throat. "Wanna talk about it." He asked, sounding mildly interested.

No, thanks, Dr. Phil. I'm straight. "Not really," I told him, looking around. We were sitting at one of the tables in a corner of the cafeteria, beside a window, during our coffee break. I just wanted to drink my damn coffee before I had to go back and face the elderly… more specifically Mr. Patterson. I shuddered a little. "You'd laugh at me," I added.

Eddie looked affronted. "What? When have I ever laughed at anything - wait," he cut himself off before I had the opportunity. It was my turn to raise an eyebrow at him, and he leaned forward in his seat, rested his forearms on top of the table. His facial expression changed and had taken a slightly guilty look to it. I wanted to laugh. "Don't answer that. I promise I won't laugh, cross my heart and hope to die."

I titled my head to the side, giving him a look that clearly stated that I wasn't buying what he was selling.

He pouted. "What, you don't believe me?" He asked, and then held out his hand to me, closing it into a fist but leaving a finger out. "Want to pinky swear on it?"

This time I did laugh, but only a little. "It's stupid," I warned him, hoping that would at least scare him off the subject, but he listened on. Damnit. The one time I didn't want him to listen…. "Do you, um, do you believe in ghosts?"

He blinked and then raised both his brows. "Ghosts?" He repeated, saying the word like he didn't understand the meaning of it. He scratched the side of his face and, being paranoid, I watched him to make sure he wasn't laughing at me. "That's, uh, that's a bit random and totally not what I expected, but, um, I don't know, really. I can't say that I do, can't say that I don't. You know me - seeing is believing," he answered, what I thought was, truthfully. "Why?"

I shook my head, dismissively and looked back down at my cup. I pouted - I was almost out of coffee, I knew I'd have to get up soon to get more. "I was just curious," I elaborated when I looked back up and found that he was staring t me, almost, expectantly. "Told you it was stupid."

"What?"

I hesitated. "Okay, hypothetically speaking, if I told you that I _thought _I'd seen a ghost, what would you say?"

"Char, are you trying to tell me that you saw a ghost?" Eddie questioned and I couldn't tell whether it was amusement or skepticism lacing his voice. I decided not to dwell on it.

And it was no use trying to hide the question in a 'hypothetically speaking' situation. "I'm not sure. I think I did, but it's weird," I replied, eyeing him wearily. I couldn't understand why it was so hard for me to just get it out and tell him what I thought I had seen. "Well, it started after Mal come home…" and I jumped into the story, telling him everything from the eyes I thought I saw in my car's rearview mirror to the incident with the stereo to the figure standing in my kitchen and everything in between that I thought was related. "And that's it," I told him, finishing in a rush.

I felt better now that I had told someone.

Eddie sat up, slowly and looked unsure of what to make of my situation. "That is weird," he greed, nodding and rubbing the back of his neck. "But…" ugh, how did I know there was a but?! "you know there's probably a good explanation for all of that, there always is --"

I frowned. I didn't feel so good anymore. "Look, if you don't believe me just say so, don't go beating around the bush, that's not helping," I snapped, feeling slightly humiliated and annoyed that my best friend didn't believe me.

And then a tiny voice in the back of my head reminded me that _I _barely believed myself and I was _there_!

Stupid conscious.

"I'm not saying that I don't, okay?" He defended. "I'm just saying that it's weird and there might be a plausible explanation."

I sighed, slouching in my seat with my arms crossed over my chest. "It's okay if you don't believe me, Ed." I reassured him. "And I'm sorry I snapped at you, I'm just --" I yawned again, "--really tired. I haven't been sleeping well lately," I smiled, tiredly.

"It's fine," he waved my apology off. "Look, if you think you saw something, then I believe you. Okay?" I nodded, feeling a little grateful. "Have you told Mal?"

I shook my head, chewing on the inside of my lip. "No, I haven't," I confessed. "He doesn't believe in that… supernatural stuff. He'd probably just think that the jobs getting to me."

Eddie nodded in agreement and took on a thoughtful expression, then his face lit up and I knew that he had an idea. Oh, someone was about to get seriously hurt…. "You know, my Nana was into this type of stuff. She lived for it," he said, eyes softening a bit as did his tone of voice. He always got a little sad whenever he spoke of Grandmother, who'd passed away nearly a year ago and left him the house he was currently living at in her will. He didn't like talking about it but I knew that he never really got over her passing. "If you think you've got a ghost lingering around your apartment, we could try to communicate with it," he finished, sort of bouncing in his seat with excitement.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "What, you mean like a séance?"

"Exactly," Eddie nodded with a grin. "Got a Ouija bored that belonged to her stashed somewhere in her room. I could swing by and get it after work and head over to your place?" He offered and a part of me was weary about messing with one of _those_.

I wasn't very superstitious or anything like that, but my mom, well, she was. I remember wanting to buy one as a kid and then having to sit through a half hour lecture on why I shouldn't mess with things like it. She had said that using a Ouija board was dangerous because you never knew who it was that you were talking to and any spirit could just come on through and possibly posses you if it wanted. Of course, I just laughed and called her crazy behind her back… but what she had said stayed with me for a long time after and I never touched one. Ever.

Damnit.

I shrugged and then remembered something. "Didn't you say that you had a date with Steven tonight?"

Eddie's eyebrows shot up in half surprise, half amusement. "Ah, so you were listening," he teased. Big surprise. "I'll cancel it," he shrugged. "I'm sure he can survive a night without my manly-self around."

I rolled my eyes, huffing a chuckle. It was decided then. "Okay, fine. Tonight. My place." I fought the urge to add: be there or be squared.

"Great," he grinned, again, clasping his hands together and I stood up from my seat, stomach growling all of a sudden. "Where are you going?" Eddie called out, confused.

I looked over my shoulder at him, quickly. "To get something to eat," I told him in a tone one would have expected a duh attached to. "I'm starving," I half whined and began to look for something. My eyes lit up a little when I did and I made a beeline for the cashier. Lucky for me, and my stomach, the line was short and I was back in my seat in under five minutes.

Eddie stared at me. "Is, is that pie?" He asked as I stuffed my face.

I chewed, nodding. "Been craving it all week," I laughed a little, taking another bite. "Want some?" I offered when I noticed he'd been staring.

"I thought you didn't like pie," he said, sounding as confused as he looked.

I wanted to tell him that a girl had a right to change her mind whenever the hell she wanted to, but I didn't because, you know, he was right. I hated pie. "Guess I do now," I shrugged, taking another bite and wondered if I could convince Eddie to get me another cup of coffee.

* * *

"Is all of this really _necessary_?" I asked, fidgeting a little as my eyes wandered my candle lit living room and the shadows they cast on the walls, nervously. I _hated_ the dark, could barely see a damn thing even with all of them lit, and it wasn't just the dark that was making me nervous - the candles were too. The thought of one tipping over and causing a fire kept replaying in my head, making me somewhat paranoid.

Twenty-one-years-old and your still afraid of the dark? You're such a baby , my brother would say if he knew, with an evil, stupid smirk on his face. And I'd tell him what he could do with the remote control. Whatever.

"Wouldn't it be more convenient if we kept the lights on, you know, to see better?" I suggested, nonchalantly, and hoped I didn't sound so obvious about wanting them on.

"Candles set the atmosphere," he grinned, pearly whites shinning so brightly - even in the dark for crying out loud! - I almost felt blinded. He took a seat on the floor, across from me and placed the Ouija board in front of us, and then lit the candle beside us. I stared at the flame for bit. "Besides, it's much more fun in the dark."

"That's what you think," I muttered, under my breath, and then loudly, I added: "I'm really beginning to wonder why I agreed to do this."

Curiosity, a voice in the back of my head whispered. I silently wondered if I was going crazy.

"Because you were desperate for answers," Eddie relied. I kind of liked his answer better. "And, you love me enough to give this a try."

I scoffed. "What's love got to do with it?" I asked, and quickly reminded myself to stop quoting song lyrics from Tina Turner. I crossed my arms over my chest, eyeing the darkness. "I might have been desperate, but I'd rethink the whole thing about me loving you," I joked, trying to push all scary thoughts from my head. Joking was good. Joking made me feel better.

"Oh, hush puppy, you love me - I complete you."

"Sadly," I muttered with a sigh, and dropped my arms to my lap. "So, let's get on with this, yeah?" I dropped my voice a little and said, "Before Mal gets home and wonders what the hell we're doing." I really didn't need my older brother thinking I was crazier than he thought I already was.

"Okay," Eddie rubbed his hands together and looked from me to the board and then back. "So, what you want to do is put your fingers on the pointer - that's the heart shaped thing with the clear glass near the top -" I frowned at him. I may not have known how to use a Ouija board properly, but I wasn't stupid. "- lightly to allow it to move freely, and when you ask it a question, you gotta be serious about - Char, don't laugh!" He scolded suddenly.

I tried to contain my laughter. "I'm sorry," I sobered up quickly, feeling slightly guilty. "I'm sorry. You know, for someone who doesn't believe in ghosts and shit, you sure are getting into this," I pointed out.

Eddie went silent for a moment, just staring at me, then he blinked and sighed. "I never said that I didn't believe in 'ghosts and shit', I specifically remember saying something along the lines of seeing is believing," he reminded me and I found myself nodding in agreement. "After Nan died, I wanted to believe in all of this. I wanted to believe that there was more to this - life after death, but I never found proof to prove she wasn't crazy. I want to believe, Charlie, I really I do."

I nodded again, not knowing what to say to him. I had never lost anyone close to me before, so I didn't know how to handle a situation where I had to comfort someone who did.

I'd only met his Nan a couple of times. She was a sweet old woman, wouldn't call her crazy, maybe a little on the eccentric side, but that was it. She had this thing about… salt, though. I remember asking her why there was salt spread across the window sill once. Her reply was that it was to ward off evil spirits, demons, things like that. And then I remember, as I walked away, thinking how the hell did one fight off those things with a condiment?

So, instead of saying something stupid or cheesy to Ed, I gave him a sad smile, and said: "Let's get this bitch started."

He returned the smile, brightening up as he sat up straight. "All right, but remember: no jokes -" I pretended to zip my lips and throw away the key, or however that stupid saying went. "-and one of us is going to have to ask the questions. You want to do the honors?" I shook my head and thought how funny it was that I could barely talk to strangers and was now being asked to talk to ghosts? Yeah. Pass, por favor. "Okay, I'll do it then," he paused for a bit before he began. "Is there a spirit in the room that would like to communicate with us?"

I stared at the Ouija board, unblinkingly - nothing. My eyes stung.

"Is there a spirit in the room that would like to communicate with us?" Eddie repeated, staring at the board with concentration. He was really getting into this, I thought, worriedly.

Nothing.

I shook my head. "Ask it something else, Ed," I suggested, not really liking the silence all too much.

"Is there a reason why you're haunting this apartment?" He asked, eyes darting around the room now. I felt a little fidgety at the word 'haunting'.

I sighed, closing my eyes. Maybe I wasn't concentrating hard enough. I repeated his question in my head, hoping it would help some, at least, but it didn't. Groaning a little, I opened my eyes. "This isn't working," I told him, discouraged. "And I'm starting to feel a little stupid about all this, now."

"Just give it a little more time," he insisted, and then moved on to his next question, which was actually his first. "Is there a spirit in the room that would like to communicate with us?"

I suddenly felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand as a chill ran through me, I fidgeted. "Eddie…"

"Shhh" he shushed, eyes closed now.

I bristled. Where the hell did he get off shushing me?! I opened my mouth to yell at him, but stopped when the candle beside us started flickering.

I blinked, still staring at the flickering flame. "Ed -"

The ringing of a cell phone caused me to jump in my seat.

Eddie opened his eyes, and reached inside of his pocket. "Damnit," he muttered, quietly. "I thought I had turned this thing off. Hello?" He greeted whoever it was on the other line with a singsong voice. "Hey, yeah, actually I am sort of busy - oh… no way."

I suddenly got the sinking feeling that he'd be leaving soon, not that I really minded. Not really.

"Okay, okay. I'll do what I can," he said, hanging up. He looked at me, an apologetic look on his face. "Listen…"

I smiled, already knowing. He was leaving. "It's okay," I reassured him. "Go ahead. This," I motioned to the candles and everything else, "Wasn't working out anyway."

He stood up, and I followed, walking over to the light switch as quickly as possible to turn it on. I felt much better with them on, and starting blowing out the candles.

"Do you mind if I leave the Ouija board here?" He asked. "I'll pick it up tomorrow."

"Sure."

"Thanks, I'll see you tomorrow," he walked over to me and kissed me on the cheek. "Bye, honey."

I rolled my eyes and watched him go. When he closed the door behind him, I began to gather all the candles and place them on top of the dinner table.

What a waste, I thought with a sigh. So much for reaching out to the beyond. I wasn't sure if I was glad or disappointed about it, though.

When I was done putting out the candles and gathering them, I looked over at the Ouija board with my hands on my hip. A part of me screamed for me to put it away, the other half was telling me to give it another shot… what was the worst that could happen?

Getting possessed, that's what could happen. Or worst… finding out that I really was crazy and I had imagined the whole damn things.

Eventually, though, the part of me that wanted to give it another shot won, and I sat down on the floor near the coffee table, placing my fingers on the pointer with a sigh.

I wondered how I should start …

"I'm not so sure how to start this," I said out loud and felt a tiny bit stupid. "I, um, my name's Charlie, but you probably already know that…." I trailed off, shaking my head a little. "Look, I just… really need to know that you're here and I'm not crazy, okay? Now, is there something you want to tell me, something you couldn't in front of Eddie?"

I sat quietly for a moment, the suddenly my hands felt cold, icy and the pointer started moving. It pointed to the word yes. Yes. I gasped a little, startled, wanting to move my hands away. I hadn't really expected it to move and wondered if I should put it away.

I didn't.

"Is there… something you want to tell me?"

The pointer moved a little, away from the word yes and then moved back to it. Yes.

My heartbeat increased. "Do you want to tell me what that is?"

Nothing happened for a while, and then suddenly the pointer started moving.

N-O-T.

Not.

C-R-A-Z-Y

Crazy.

Not crazy. It was telling me that I wasn't crazy?!

I laughed out loud, a little more hysterical than I would have liked and stared at the board. It had spelled out that I wasn't crazy. I couldn't believe it.

Shaking my head, I sat up straight, feeling a bit more confident. I started to ask another question when the lights started flickering. Startled, I jumped to my feet and went stiff as it continued. I held my breath. And then, it stopped, like nothing happened.

I shook my head again, deciding that I no longer wanted to mess with the board and stuffed it in my closet, hoping Malcolm wouldn't find it.

It had said that I wasn't crazy, I thought with a sigh, but then why hell did I feel like I was losing my mind?


	5. Brotherly, Sisterly Love

**A/N: **Eep, I'm so, so sorry about this late update. I know everyone's like what the hell she FINALLY UPDATED! I seriously lost my comedic side for a while, and only wanted to write angst, which is why this chapter lacked a lot of humor, in my opinion, but I hope you enjoyed it none the less, and hope, out of the kindness of you heart, that you review. Thank you to everyone who sent me messages, letting me know you're still interested and wanted me to continue. You guys are awesome. Also (and yes I'm gonna pimp out my new stories) I posted two new supernatural fics. Check those out if you ever get the hankering for my writing, hopefully you won't be disappointed – let me know what you think - it's always nice hearing from my readers. I take reviews as bribes for me to write, so please do so =)

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**Chapter Five:**

Brotherly, Sisterly Love

Man, this hurts like a _sonavabitch_!

That – that _sonavabitch_, I'm going to kill him. I'm going to kill him.

_Fu_- it hurt to breathe. My insides burned like a mother- ah, they felt like they'd been put through a blender. I felt weak. My eyelids were heavy, but I had to stay awake, keep alert, needed to focus on anything, anything but this pain and how screwed to hell we really were.

_I hear hurricanes a-blowing; I know the end is coming soon._

I try not to groan. Any other day I would have gladly sung along quietly to _Bad Moon Rising_, but that last line… I try not to think about it. At least we were alive. For now.

Focus. Focus. Focus. I can hear my dad and my brother talking, he's driving, I realize with a start, but I'd let it slide.

I looked down at myself – I was bleeding, man. I was bleeding all over the backseat of my baby. After all this was over, I'd make sure to clean her up good, she deserved it.

Feeling eyes on me, I looked up at the rearview mirror. My brother locks eyes with me. I try to smile, but I feel it comes out as a grimace. He continues to talk to our dad, glancing at me every couple of seconds. Kid's going to get us killed.

I look away, trying to focus again, and see bright lights headed in our direction. "Sa-"

"-am!" I heard myself scream, scrambling to sit up. Underneath my ribcage, my heart thumped uncontrollably, threatening to tear out of my chest. When I'm finally able to sit up, I collided against something solid – a body. I screamed a little, startled by the presence of someone else, but I felt strangely comforted. I wrapped my arms around their neck.

"Shh, it's ok," my brother whispered with a trace of amazement. He patted my back gently, slowly. I suddenly felt cold, but let myself go limp against him.

I sighed. It was okay; I repeated his words. It was just another stupid dream.

"Cherry," a voice called out, from the doorway of my room. I let my arms drop, right as the lights turn on. I hissed at the sudden brightness, squinting and ignored the comment about me being Dracula. "What's going on?" Mal groggily asked, rubbing his eyes. He was standing in boxers. I suddenly had the urge to gauge my eyes out. Oh, the horror. Wait. "Are you okay? I heard screaming."

"W-w… but … if you," I turned my attention away from him to the spot on my bed where I had sworn he had just been sitting, but the spot was empty. "How?" I trailed off, slightly confused. Had I dreamt someone comforting me? Maybe I had still been dreaming I reasoned with myself. Yeah, that's right – I had been dreaming.

That or I was completely out of my ever-loving mind, and let's face it I'm not the sanest around, but _come on_!

"Are you okay?" My brother repeated, stepping closer to me. I shook my head, running a hand through my thick hair. "Wanna talk about it?" He asked, and I shrugged. What was there to talk about? "C'mon. Let's go to the living room. You can have ice cream while we talk," he bribed when he noticed I had made no move to get up.

"Ice cream?" Now that got my attention. "I love ice cream. Can I have sprinkles too?" I meant for it to sound more grown-up, but of course, I sounded like five year old.

Damnit.

He smiled. "I know you do, kid," he said, helping me out of bed. "Jeez, your skin's so cold."

I nodded, shuddering a little. "I know. I think maybe the thermostat's broken, might have to call Tony to come fix it up. It's been on the frits for a while now."

"Yeah – place is always cold."

"I still want ice cream though," I told him, grabbing my blanket and wrapping it around myself because, yes, it was freezing and the coldness I'd felt while I was in bed hadn't gone away.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Um, Mal?" He quirked both eyebrows, letting me know I had his attention. "Could you – could you put some pants on?" I asked, averting my eyes a little. "I'm glad you're comfortable around me and all, but… come on, dude. It's freezing."

He looked down at himself, as if realizing for the first time he was, indeed, practically naked in front of his baby sister. "Shut up," he huffed, at least having the decency to look a little embarrassed. "You know I like to sleep commando, I sleep in boxers for your benefit."

I shuddered. "Yeah, because the last thing I wanna see when I get up in the morning is you in your birthday suit – go put on some pants!"

He muttered something about me being a prude as he walked out. I fought the urge to grab my alarm clock and throw it at his head, and instead followed after him, walking slowly. I walked into the living room, and noticed that he hadn't taken out his bed, the couch was still made but the pillow and blanket I'd laid out for him was on it. I guessed that Mal had been tired when he'd come home, and just crashed.

I moved the blanket and pillow around and sat down on the couch. Malcolm emerged from the kitchen, fully clothed, holding two small round bowls of ice cream. "Extra sprinkles," he announced, handing it to me. He settled himself on the other end of the couch. We sat in silence for a while, just eating. It wasn't long before he spoke.

"You know," he began, shoving a spoonful of chocolate ice cream in his mouth. "You've been acting weird lately, like more than usual."

I glared at him. I was not weird!

"I can tell something's bothering you. And we haven't spoken about… that night, when you ran out of the apartment."

I remembered, and had been thankful he hadn't brought it up, but I guessed now that he'd been saving that conversation for a rainy day. I looked out the window – it wasn't raining. Then why the hell were we having this conversation?

"I saw a spider," I quickly lied, looking anywhere but him.

"Bull – you were shaking, bad. Hell, you scared me. You didn't even want to sleep alone."

I shifted uncomfortably, wishing he hadn't brought it up at all. I had been trying very hard to forget everything. What I saw that night, using the Ouija board with Eddy. I hadn't even mentioned that to my brother, he would have gone ballistic.

"Cherry?"

"Mal." I countered. I didn't really know why I was being so difficult. Usually I was an easy person to talk to, an open book, but for some reason… I just couldn't, I couldn't talk to my brother. In all honesty, I just wanted to get the hell out of the apartment, maybe go for a drive; find a bar… What the hell? A bar?

He sighed. "C'mon, Charlotte. Talk to me. You know I have a hard time with… chick flick moments. I'm trying. Throw me a bone."

I looked up at him when he called me Charlotte and not Cherry, and found that he was giving me those eyebrows of doom look. Wow, he was serious. Weird, I thought and gave in. "I don't, Malcolm. Things have just been weird since you came home. I've been having these crazy dreams."

"About what?"

I shrugged. "I don't know, different things, always something new. Mostly I'm driving the impala, listening to really crappy music," I forced a laugh.

_Slam!_

Mal and I both jumped at the sound of my bedroom door slamming shut. "What the hell?" He asked, placing the bowl of ice cream on the coffee table. I did the same, not in the mood for ice cream anymore. I was suddenly scared. "It was probably just the wind," he reasoned and turned his attention back to me. "Maybe you left the window open?"

"It's cold," I whispered to him, shaking my head. "I closed the window before I got into bed." We grew silent, waiting… "Mal, am I haunted?" I finally asked.

"What?" The look on his face was complete shock, like he couldn't believe I was even asking him that.

I decided to tell him everything. "I swear ever since you got me the impala, weird things have been going on." It was something I didn't like to say out loud, even to myself because I knew how freaking crazy it sounded, but I remembered the night in the hospital parking lot, how the other cars went off and the eyes… the eyes in the mirror.

"Like what?"

"I don't know… sometimes the car stalls on me, changes radio stations –"

"It's a newly repaired car, Cherry. It's probably a loose wire somewhere, I'll check it out in the morning," he offered with a small smile on his face.

"Lights flicker around me, and it's always cold –"

"I thought you said it was the thermostat?"

I shook my head, feeling a little helpless for some reason. I hated this feeling. "I have to say that, Mal. I've been trying to convince myself that everything is okay, that there's nothing wrong. That this is all in my head, but damnit I'm scared. I think I'm being haunted."

He remained quiet during my outburst.

"There's something wrong with me too," I told him, biting my lower lip.

He quirked an eyebrow, "Well, I know that. You wanna know what I think it is or what mom and dad think?"

I stared at him. Was he seriously joking, that mother – "Malcolm, I'm being completely serious."

"I know that's what makes this so funny. You almost had me there, Cherry. You almost had me," he repeated, looking amused. "Trying to get me back for all the times I scared you when we were kids? Didn't think you had it in you. Very original with the whole ghost thing."

"You think I'm making this up?" I shouted, not caring that it was almost five in the morning and other people were screaming. He laughed. "I'm not!" I told him, anger overriding my fear. "Mal, I keep having these dreams. I dream about people I don't know, things I haven't seen before. And I'm having these… weird cravings for pie – I hate pie - and –"

"Are you pregnant?" My brother suddenly asked, humor gone from his voice.

"What?"

"Are you pregnant?" He repeated, leaning towards me a little.

I jerked back, shocked that he would even ask me that. "What? No, I'm not pregnant you, asshat!"

He raised his hands up in mock surrender, "All right, all right. You know for someone who isn't pregnant you sure got those mood swings down – first you're scared, now you're angry."

I resisted the urge to strangle him right then and there, and instead raised my hand, clenching it into a fist to let him know how close he was to getting punched in the face. "No. I'm not pregnant," I informed him, voice steady as I could manage. "I haven't even been on a date in a real long time, let alone had s-"

"Ew. Ew! I'm your brother, I can't know these things!" He shouted, interrupting me.

"Then don't add stupid questions!" I snapped, glaring at him. Again, we grew silent. I didn't trust myself to speak at the moment. Part of me was angry that he didn't believe me, the other half didn't blame him – hell if he'd come to me with a story this crazy I wouldn't have believed me. "There's something else."

"What?"

"That night I nearly mowed you over – I saw something, someone in the apartment."

"Burglar?"

I shook my head, running a hand through my hair again and tucking some behind my ear. "No, I don't think so. He was standing in the kitchen, by the fridge –"

"Maybe he was a hungry burglar?" He offered as an explanation. I gave him a look that clearly stated he was stupid. "Ok, if it wasn't a burglar, then what – your ghost?"

"Maybe." I suddenly grew nervous. "If it is, what should we do? Is there someone we can call for that, maybe a priest, maybe –"

"Ghostbusters."

"Ghostbusters, really?" I repeated. Oh that was it. I stood up, ripping the blanket off of me. "Que te pasa, estas loco? Idiota!" I shouted, my Spanish coming through. I only ever spoke it when I was real upset.

He stood up too, his six-foot-two frame towering over me. "You're the one seeing ghost, and I'm the crazy one? There's no need for names, Ricky Ricardo. You walked into that joke, I was just trying to lighten things up."

My glare softened, I shook my head. "Malcolm, please. Be serious, ok? I'm scared."

Whether he believed me or not, it didn't matter. I was just glad that he knew.

He closed the gap between us, pulling me into a hug. "Look, I'm sorry, ok? I'll lay of the jokes, but c'mon, Cherry, ghosts? It's kind of hard to believe."

"I know."

"Whatever you think is happening, I'll handle it."

I doubted it, but I wasn't going to stop him from trying. "Okay."

He pulled away, "Feel better." Strangely, I did. It felt like a big weight had been lifted. I nodded. "Good. Now, let's get some sleep. We're suppose to have dinner at mom's tomorrow, and you know we'll need all the energy we can get to deal with mom and dad."

I groaned. "Do we have to go?"

" Sorry, 'fraid so." He moved away, pushing the coffee table to the side and began to pull out the sofa bed. "Get some sleep," he repeated, fixing the bed.

I nodded, turning to head back to my room, but when I saw the closed door I grew scare. I turned back to my brother. "Hey, Mal?" He'd just gotten into bed, under the covers. I picked up mine, the one I had dropped during the fight and held it close to y chest. "Can I… do you mind –"

He chucked. "Get in here, you big baby," he said, scooting over to make room for me. I squealed a little, relieved and jumped in with him. "Just don't kick me," he said, turning over. "And try not to snore."

"I do not snore!"

"Psh, right and your feet don't smell."

I gaped at the back of his head. "My feet don't smell!" I defended.

He laughed. "Right, go to sleep, Cherry."

I huffed, but did as I was told. I closed my eyes, and started to drift off after a while, trying really hard not to think about anything.

"Hey, Cherry?" I felt my brother shift, turning over.

"Hmm?"

"Who's Sam?"

I turned over to face him. "What?" I asked, confused.

"You were shouting, screaming for someone named Sam. Who is he, your boyfriend?" He asked, sounding curious.

It was my turn to laugh. "Yeah, right. I haven't had a boyfriend in years."

"Right," he didn't look convince. "Look, if you have a boyfriend, don't think you have to hide him from me."

"I know I don't have to hide him, I'm twenty-one, but honestly I don't have a boyfriend," I tried to tell him. "I don't even know anyone named Sam."

"Right, ok," he yawned, stretching out a little. "Goodnight, Cherry."

I stared at his face for a little bit. "Night, Mal."

The name Sam didn't seem familiar, but there was something about that name, something important that nagged at me. Sam. I shook my head, snuggling into my blanket. My brother began to snore and I snorted, finally allowing myself to go back to sleep.


	6. The Girl With the Sixth Sense - Pt 1

**A/N:** Hey, everyone! I'm back! I'm so sorry I haven't updated this story – it's been way too long, longer than I would have hoped. I had this chapter written out so long ago, but my computer crashed at one point, and I lost everything and had to take it to the shop to be fixed. I lost all my files and had to write this over. I was sad about it for a long time, but I finally wrote it out the way I remembered. This chapter had to be split in two because it would have been so long. I'm in the process of writing the next one so hopefully you'll have that soon.

I wouldn't be surprised if I lost readers. I so appreciate those who have been reviewing and leaving me positive remarks about the story. I hope that this chapter wont disappoint. Please enjoy! And if it's not too much to ask – please review! And please excuse any typos!

Song used in this story is Led Zeppelin's Immigrant song.

Enjoy and review! Lots of love to everyone!

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**Chapter Six**

The Girl With the Sixth Sense - Pt. 1

"There's suppose to be a flood tonight," Eddie informed me, and I could hear the worry in his voice. "You need to be careful tonight."

I smiled, switching my cell phone from my right ear to the left so I could prop my elbow against the car door. I was waiting for Mal to come downstairs. "I'm only going across town to visit my parents, Eddie."

He signed. "I know, but you get a little weird when you're driving."

"What?" I tried my best to sound offended, but knew he was right. I got a little crazy behind the wheel during rain. In fact, the last time it rained I had to pull over and have Eddie meet me so he could drive me home. It sucks being a new driver sometimes. "I do not! And it's barely drizzling." I told him, glancing outside the window, watching light drops of rain hitting the glass. It looked very gloomy outside. "I'll be okay. I wish you were coming with me though. I think Mal told mom and dad about… the ghost."

"I can't believe you told him."

"I blame my lack of sleep." After I told Mal about what I thought was going on, I was able to sleep a little better. I was glad that I told him, but I wasn't happy about the thought of him telling our parents. They already thought I was crazy enough; I didn't want to give them another reason to have me institutionalized.

"Well, speaking of ghosts…" Eddie trailed off, and in the background I could hear him rummaging through, what sounded like, books and papers. "I found an old journal that belonged to my Nana."

"What kind of journal," I asked almost wearily then gasped, "wait! If this is, like, some kind of sex journal, then you keep that to yourself mister. In fact – burn it!"

"Oh, shut up!" He groaned, disgusted. "And listen – I think Nana – God rest her soul – was insane."

"Yeah, you're not going to hell at all," I mused out loud. If there was one thing my mom always told me – aside from never talking to strangers – alive or dead, which I failed to follow playing with that stupid Ouija board. – Was never speaking ill of the dead. "Insane?"

"I read a few pages, it was kind of confusing…" he paused. "Some words are in Latin. She talked a lot about demons, monsters… there's even a section about ghosts."

I remained silent, trying to process what Eddie had just said. I wasn't overly shocked… I had always known Nana – God rest her soul – was a little off her rocker – _damnit! Broke another one of mom's rules to follow_ – but I hadn't realized to what extent.

I suddenly felt a cold shiver run down my spine.

Maybe Nana wasn't crazy. "Whoa," I finally said, "That's –" I cut myself off as Mal opened the passenger side door, slamming it behind him as he slide in. _Easy!_ I mouthed, annoyed that he was being rough with my baby. He gave me a goofy grin. I stuck my tongue out at him. "Hey, I gotta run, but maybe I can stop by later and take a look at this book, okay?"

"Yeah, sounds good. I'll talk to you later. Be careful on the road."

"Yes, mother," I replied, rolling my eyes. "Bye."

"Bye, babe."

"Who was that?" Mal asked, nosily.

"Just Eddie. Sad he couldn't make it," I told him, not completely lying.

I started the car, and pulled out of our street, heading towards our parents house.

"He should have - Ed's a funny guy to have around," he said, and the memory of the first time Mal and Eddie met flashed through my mind.

I had finally found the courage to invite Ed over for dinner during the early stages of our friendship, or in my case the early stages of me wanting to start a romantic relationship with him. Mal had come over, unexpectedly, and not wanting to appear rude in front of my guest, I invited him to stay. Needless to say Eddie was too busy making goo-goo eyes at my older brother to notice me giving him those same looks. Story of my life – my brother always gets what I want.

I smiled a little, tightening my grip on the steering wheel of my favorite new thing. _Not everything_, I told myself.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see said devil reaching over to turn on the radio. I fought the urge to slap his hand away. No one could touch my radio but me!

I felt a cold chill on the right side of my body. I shuddered, feeling slightly frozen but tried my best to ignore it as I was driving. Didn't need to cause on accident, I thought, focusing on the wet road ahead of me.

"…_The hammer of the gods… will drive our ships to new lands… To fight the horde, singing and crying: Val-halla, I am coming!"_

Mal chuckled for some reason. "That's funny. I thought you didn't like mullet rock."

I kept my eyes on the road, pretending that, for a moment, I didn't hear him.

I wanted to tell him that I didn't like Led Zeppelin. That Zeppelin's music just never appealed to me before, despite the fact that Mal played it over and over again when we were growing up. It just wasn't for me. I wanted tell him that no matter how many times I changed the station it would always find its way back to that classic rock station. That this car only ever played mullet rock, and I could probably sing along to just about every Led Zeppelin, Lynyrd Skynrd, Def Leppard and, on vary rare occasions, Bon Jovi song that came my way.

I wanted to tell him that it was driving me crazy.

Stopping at a red light, I looked over to him instead, and said, "They kind of grew on me."

Twenty-five minutes later, Mal and I were standing in front of our parent's house, all thoughts of ghosts and haunted cars leaving my mind, at least for now.

I glanced at Mal through the corner of my eye as he raised his fist to knock on the door. "We can still make a run for it," I told him, only half joking. It wasn't that I didn't want to see my mom and dad. I missed them so much while they'd gone to visit my aunt Cecile, who was my mom's sister. I had so much love for my parents, but they were crazy and I knew that they were going to ask me why I didn't have any kids, why I didn't have a boyfriend, or why I wasn't even dating. Mal got the same interrogation, but not as bad.

He smiled slightly, "Mom would kill us."

I nodded, agreeing and gave him the go-ahead to knock.

We didn't have to wait long before someone answered the door. Our mother greeted us with the brightest smile I'd ever seen on a person, her brown eyes shinning. Her hair was in a neat ponytail, and she was dressed in a long skirt shirt, a pink apron over her white blouse that said 'number one mom in the world' on the front.

"My babies!" She greeted, her accent thick. English was not our mom's first language, having only come to the states from El Salvador when she was twenty.

"Mommy!" I shouted, while Mal greeted her with a simple, "Hey Mom."

She gathered us both in her arms, squeezing us tightly and kissing us both on the cheek. I returned the kissed and squeezed her back. "You are very late," she scolded, but didn't look mad.

"Sorry, Ma," Mal said, pulling away to give me a look. I shrugged sheepishly. I had a tiny freak out on the road while on the way over when the rain picked up. I had to pull over and Malcolm had to drive the rest of the way.

"Kids," our dad called out, stepping into the foyer.

"Daddy!" I cried, wiggling out of my mom's grasp, bouncing over to the tall heavy-set man. I suddenly found myself reverting back to my five-year-old self.

"How's my girl?" He asked, laughing as I jumped into his arms. His accent wasn't as heavy as mom's but still noticeable.

"I missed you so much!" I said, squeezing him. I pulled my face far enough to I could stare at his. "Someone hasn't shaved," I told him, pulling at his thick beard. He laughed again, swatting my hand away

"You guys are disgusting," Mal pointed out.

Mom looked on with, what appeared like, a permanent smile on her face. I guess having us all under one roof for the first time in months made her happy.

"Jealous," I retorted, poking my tongue out at him.

"Basta," mom intervened. "Now that you are both here – we eat!"

"Good, I'm starving," dad said, putting me down and pulling my brother into a hug. "Missed you, boy. You need to stop running off," he said with an arm over Mal's shoulder, walking into the dining room. I made to follow them, but my mother's hand on my shoulder stopped me. I looked back at her, eyebrows raised in question.

"Tu me puedes ayudar servir la cena," she said, and I nodded, grudgingly following her into the kitchen, wondering why she never asked Mal to help.

As soon as I walked into the kitchen, I was greeted with the sweetest smell. I inhaled deeply. "Mmm, is that chicken and rice with carrots?" I asked, dreamily. It had been a very long time since I'd had a home cooked meal.

"And potato salad," she added, looking up at me with a smile.

"My favorite!" I shouted excitedly, clapping my hands. I reached for a fork to taste a little of it, but she slapped my hand away. "Ouch!" I cried, giving her a startled look. I should have expected it.

"Ah-ah," she scolded, waving the wooden spoon in her hand. "Not until dinner."

"Fine," I pouted. I watched her move back and forth, and wondered why I was even in the kitchen. The food wasn't even ready, how was I supposed to serve it? I watched her move around the kitchen, and then finally she spoke.

"How have you been?"

I shrugged, "eh, not bad. Tired mostly. How was Aunt Cecile?"

"Bien," she responded. "But I missed you kids." I smiled, and told her I missed her to. "Mal called me this morning," she glanced up and me, searching my face for a reaction." I waited for her to continue. "He told me you've been having trouble sleeping lately, and … other things."

"What other things?" I asked, giving her a suspicious look.

"Ghosts."

I knew it! I groaned "That son-of-a—"

"Language!" She gave me a hard look.

"Sorry."

She sighed. "Look. I haven't told tu padre. I wanted to talk to you first. Have you been seeing ghosts?" She asked, taking off her apron.

I bit my lip. "You know most mom's would just ask about their daughter's dating life and ask about settling down. Y'know – normal stuff."

She shrugged, taking a seat beside me. "Well I am not a normal mom. And we are going to have that conversation later, but I want to wait until your dad is in the room with us."

"You're evil," I glared.

She smiled, mischievously. "Well I did give birth to you and your brother. Now, answer the question."

I sighed. "No es nada, mama," I tried telling her, but she gave me a look that clearly meant she wasn't buying it. "It's just bad dreams."

"Que clase de pesadillas?"

I paused for a moment, wondering if I should tell her and then decided I might as well since Mal had already opened his big mouth. "People I don't know. Places I've never been to. It's just… strange, and scary sometimes."

Mom was silent for a moment, getting up and turning off the kitchen stove. "You used to dream things when you were little, see things too."

I narrowed my eyes in confusion, "Things?"

She nodded, "Julia."

"My imaginary friend Julia?"

"You used to play with her all the time, talked about her like she was real."

I smiled, rolling my eyes. This was embarrassing. "She was an imaginary friend, mama. She was real enough to me."

She shook her head. "No, this was different. Malcolm had an imaginary friend, but not like you."

"Everyone's different," I defended myself.

She scooted her stool closer to mine, and grabbed my hands in hers. "You were such a special little girl-" Oh, god. Was I crazy as a child? "-Your Tia used to say you were very sensitive to things around you." I stared at her, my heart beating just a little bit faster. "Everywhere you went, there was always someone new – an imaginary friend. Sometimes they made you happy. Sometimes they scared you so badly you couldn't sleep. We always just thought you had an over active imagination."

"I don't remember that."

"No, you wouldn't," she said. "That was the summer you got into the bike accident."

I nodded a little. That made sense.

It happened the summer I turned eleven-years-old, and I had decided to tag along with Malcolm and his group of friends on a long bike ride. He was about fifteen-years-old, too cool to be seen with his younger sister so he decided to lose me. I hadn't been paying too much attention, and before I realized it I had gone off the trail, down a hill and smashed my bike into a wooden fence, the impact was so bad, it sent me flying over. I hadn't been wearing a helmet that day because Mal wasn't wearing his, so I hit my head pretty hard.

I didn't remember much of it now, but there had been a lot of blood and crying. My head injury had been so severe that there had been a possibility that I could have lost my sight.

Mal never fully forgave himself for that. Still hadn't.

"After the accident, you stopped seeing them. It was like you'd outgrown it. You were a normal little girl."

A cold shiver went through me for, what felt like, the fourth time that day. "Are you trying to tell me that I was like that little kid from the sixth sense?" I asked, incredulously. Maybe I should have been institutionalized.

My mother rolled her eyes. "I don't know what that is." She never got any of my pop culture references. "What I am trying to tell you is that when you were younger you saw ghosts. Why do you think I never told you to play with Ouija boards, or to speak ill of the dead, hmm?" Was that a trick question? "They were always drawn to you, hija."

I blinked, slowly, trying to process everything as I stared at her face, waiting (wishing) she'd tell me she was only joking and that I was gullible, but she didn't. "Now come, no more talk of ghosts for now. We have to eat." She got up from her chair, grabbed the plate of chicken and started walking towards the dinning room, but stopped suddenly. She visibly shuddered, and turned to look at me with a strange look on her face. "Esta frio," was all she said, and continued on her way.

I got up, legs feeling weak and picked up the plate of rice and potato salad. I sighed deeply; a cloud of cold air escaped my lips and the lights above my head flickered slightly. I stared at the light, startled, and to no one I said, "Looks like the thermostat is broken here too."

* * *

**Translations:**

**Basta **– Enough

**Tu me puedes ayudar servir la cena** – You can help me serve dinner.

**Tu padre** – Your father

**No es nada, mama** – It's nothing, mom.

**Que clase de pesadillas?** – What kind of bad dreams?

**Tia **– aunt

**Hija **– daughter

**Esta frio** – it's cold


End file.
